


Heartstrings

by lynn3737



Category: Original Work
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/F, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, Falling In Love, Loss, Love, Love Confessions, Post-Loss, True Love, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25326694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynn3737/pseuds/lynn3737
Summary: An original wlw fairy tale in which Ivenna pays a visit to a forest witch with the hope of healing her shattered heart. Story deals with love and loss and healing.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 5





	Heartstrings

It was said that the Healer could fix any broken heart.  
Ivenna hoped that was true.

The Healer was not a healer in the traditional sense. She took away the pains that could not be seen. Pain that was not physical, but rather, spurred by deep, heartfelt emotion.

The Healer was something of a mystery. No one knew if she truly existed, or if she was simply a hopeful myth. Those who’d claimed to visit the Healer said she could heal even the most shattered of hearts. Some claimed that she was Fae, a creature of nature and trickery. Others believed she was a witch, calling on dark magic to pull off her miraculous feats. 

Those who believed the latter warned against seeking her out, as magic always came with a price. Ivenna’s sister beseeched her, “Do not go-if you seek the witch, you will pay with more than the shards of your heart.”

Ivenna was willing to pay that price. She could not bear this burning in her chest one day longer. She was sick of feeling so much at once. She was tired of crying until the sun broke through the clouds at dawn. It was as if glass had pierced her heart, and she had not the tools to remove the shards.  
But the Healer might. 

She’d trekked to the edge of the village, where the forest began. Magic was abundant in places of nature. Most ingredients for elixirs and such grew in forests and springs, where life was plentiful. If the Healer would be anywhere, it would be within this forest.

Witches were not welcome within the kingdoms. They were burned, their families scorned. For though nature harbored magic that could be harvested for medicinal purposes, a witch was a blight upon a village. They brought misfortune to their village.

Therefore, witches isolated themselves within places of nature. They remained surrounded by magic, but unable to bring misfortune to their villages.

Ivenna took a deep breath and stepped into the forest. She would find this Healer, fae, witch, or whatever she turned out to be. She would be rid of this pain.

Ivenna walked through the forest until she stumbled upon a clearing, empty save for a well and a fire pit that stood in the middle of it. The well looked old, its stones cracked and mossy. The bucket was coated in rust. As if it hadn’t been used in quite a while. The fire pit, however, had fresh wood laid under it.  


Ivenna glanced over her shoulder. Her village was far behind her, now. Through the trees, she could see that the sun was beginning to set. She could not walk this forest alone, at night. It was ironic, Ivenna thought, that she feared being attacked by a wolf more than she feared the Healer, a being no one quite knew the true nature of.

“Who are you?” 

Ivenna jumped, her gaze snapping to the source of the voice.  
The woman was holding a woven basket on her arm, filled to the brim with plants. Ivenna hadn’t heard her walk up.  
“Are you...the Healer?” Ivenna question tentatively.

The woman raised a brow, but her expression remained impassive. “Why are you asking?”

“I heard that you can fix broken hearts.”

“And so you’ve come to seek out a witch, so close to nightfall?”

“So you _are_ a witch?” 

The woman let out a soft sigh. Her eyes were sharp against her skin, a shock of green against honey-brown skin. “Yes. I am a witch. And you are foolish to be intruding upon my home.”

Ivenna blinked and looked around. “I don’t see--”

The woman snapped her fingers. It was as if a film was peeled away from Ivenna’s vision. A small cottage now stood in the once-empty clearing, not far from the well and fire pit.

“The glamour is to keep nosy villagers like you out,” The woman said in explanation, before Ivenna could ask. She sounded irritated, Ivenna noticed. “But the well and fire pit are free to anyone passing through, if they are in need. Though not many pass through here any more.”

“Are you the Healer?” Ivenna asked again, clutching the fabric of her dress. She’d found a witch. What if it was the _wrong_ witch, and she was now stuck here? What if this woman practiced dark magic? 

Ivenna shuddered.

The witch’s nose crinkled. “Stop that. I’m not going to hurt you. Relax.”

“How did you--”

“I could feel your mess of emotions throughout the whole forest. You’ve got too many knots in your heart.”

“You are the Healer,” Ivenna breathed. Her shoulders loosed in relief, a weight Ivenna hadn’t known was there lifted. This woman could fix her heart.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” The witch said. She began to walk to her cottage, then stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Or you could call me Evlyn.”

Ivenna followed her. “You say I have too many knots in my heart-but it is broken. I feel its shards within my chest.”

“Nonsense. The heart is not glass.” Evelyn directed Ivenna to a plush chair and sat her down. “The heart is a ball of thread. You have gotten the strings all tangled up, and they are squeezing your heart so much that you can scarcely breathe. You must relieve those knots.”

“I was under the impression that you are the one with that capability.”

Evelyn smiled. It was a charming smile, on her narrow face. “No. I will simply guide you. You must face your own heart.”

The witch reached into the ashes of her fireplace and scooped up a handful of cinders. When she opened her hand, the cinders fell away to reveal an intricately designed pocket watch. The silver glinted as Evlyn held it out to Ivenna. “Take this, and put it within the pockets of your dress. When the second hand strikes twelve, bring me a needle. Not a moment after.”

Ivenna did not quite understand why the witch needed a needle to heal her heart, but she agreed to the task without question.

Ivenna returned home, and watched the little hand of the pocket watch _tick, tick, tick,_ until finally the second hand was nearly at twelve. Then she grabbed a sewing needle. 

Just as she was about to step outside, Ivenna’s sister called, “Where are you going at such a late hour, Sister?”

“I wish to see the moon,” Ivenna replied, and stepped briskly into the night before she could be questioned any further.  
By the time she reached the cottage, the second hand had landed on the twelve. Evlyn was waiting outside the cottage.

“I’ve brought it,” Ivenna said to the witch.

Evlyn plucked the needle from Ivenna’s fingers and closed her hand around it. “Good. Now go. When the second hand strikes midnight once more, bring me a spool of thread as crimson as blood. Not a moment after.”

Ivenna returned home and slept soundly. When she woke again, the sun was breaking through the clouds, staining the sky.

She spent the day watching the second hand of the pocket watch _tick, tick, tick,_ waiting until an hour before twelve to gather the spool of crimson thread. She placed it within the pocket of her dress, next to the pocket watch. 

“Where are you going at such a late hour, Sister?” Ivenna’s sister questioned once more, as Ivenna was about to step into the night.

“I wish to see the moon. It is very bright tonight.”

“It is too late to venture into the night. Tell me you have not gone to seek out the Healer.”

“I will only be a short while.” With that, Ivenna stepped into the night and began her trek into the forest.

Ivenna’s sister was dissatisfied with this. She donned a cloak as dark as the night and followed Ivenna into the woods. She made sure that her footsteps were quiet, so that her sister would not become suspicious. When she was sure that she would not be detected, she called out to her sister in a wispy voice that echoed around the forest, “If you seek out the witch this night, you will only find darkness.”

Ivenna paused in her tracks, looking around for the source of the ominous voice. “I must go,” she replied. “I must unknot my heart, or I fear I shall suffocate.”

Ivenna’s sister stepped into her field of vision, enough so that she was still shrouded in shadows, and thus little more than a shadow herself. “If you go, you will bind yourself to me.”

“Who are you?” Ivenna questioned, a note of fear in her voice. She could not place the speaker, and could see nothing more than the outline of a dark figure against the trees.

“I am darkness, of course. To seek out a witch’s assistance is to seek out eternal damnation. I warn you, turn back and go home and be at peace.”

Ivenna considered this. She turned the thought over in her head. Magic came with the price-if what the figure said was true, then that price was damnation.

Still, Ivenna felt the string of her heart pulling tighter against her chest. They squeezed, threatening to crush her heart altogether. At last, she spoke. “I cannot go home. I will not be at peace until I have untangled my heart.”

But it was too late. Evlyn was waiting by the cottage, as she was the previous night, but her expression was one of utmost sadness. “You are late.”

Ivenna pulled the pocket watch from her dress, along with the thread. It was half past twelve. “I’m sorry, a figure cloaked in shadows spoke to me. I will not be late again.”

Evlyn shook her head. “I told you not a moment after. It was a very specific instruction, and you have disobeyed it. Now you must pay the price.”

“I am already paying the price for simply seeking your help!” Ivenna cried, “I have bound myself to eternal darkness!”

“Yes, you have.” Evlyn raised her hand.

At once, the intricate designs of the silver pocket watch slithered up Ivenna’s arm and wrapped themselves around her head and melded together, just in front of her eyes, so that she could see naught but darkness. 

Ivenna clawed at the silver, but it would not come off. “What have you done?” she cried.

“This is the price for your disobedience,” The witch said. “I will continue to aid you in untangling your heart, but you must stay with me three years’ time. If you have managed to unravel every knot within that time, I shall restore your vision, and you will be free to return home. If you do not, you will still be free, but you will remain blind for as long as you live.”

Ivenna remained silent, for there was nothing she could do.  
“There is one more thing you must do.” Evlyn removed the crimson thread from Ivenna’s hand. “Do you promise to do as I say?”

Ivenna nodded.

“You must surrender your heart to me, for this stretch of time, so that you may untangle the knots.”

“I have already surrendered my vision--” Ivenna started, but Evlyn clasped her hands within her own.

“You have promised me,” Evlyn said. “If you wish to be free, you must do as I say.”

“Okay.”

Evlyn placed her hand over Ivenna’s chest. With a firm pull, she removed her heart. It gave her a sharp pain within her chest, which soon ebbed as the heart and its strings that had been suffocating her so left her ribcage.

Ivenna heard Evlyn wrapped the spool of thread around the heart, and secured it with the needle. Then she took Ivenna’s hand and led her inside, directing her to the bed. “It is time to rest. In the morning, you will begin your task.”

And so Ivenna laid down and went to sleep. The next morning, Evlyn sat her down and placed an object into her hands. It pulsed gently within her hands, thread knotted tightly around it. Ivenna knew within herself that this was her heart. Gingerly, she began to pick away at the knots.

She untangled knot after knot, working away from sun up to sun down. As she worked, Evlyn made small talk with her about trivial things. Occasionally, the witch would leave, and Ivenna would pause in her work to see where she had gone before remembering that her sight had gone with the witch. When Evlyn returned, she would pick up conversation as if she had never left at all.

During the night, before Ivenna retired to sleep, Evlyn would make them both a cup of tea, and they would speak of the things they loved, and the things that they feared.

“I fear that I shall never regain my sight,” Ivenna said one night, as her cup of tea was placed in her lap. “How may I allow myself to love again, if I cannot remove the last knot in my heart, for as long as I live? I will be fated a spinster--who would love a blind woman?”

“I fear I shall be burned,” Evlyn replied quietly. “I am a blight upon your village. The very sight of me is enough to incite hatred. If your sister seeks me out for your disappearance, I will be no more than ash.”

“She fears your power more.”

“Hatred is far more powerful than the magic I possess.”

In three month’s time, Ivenna had untangled enough knots that the thread began to spill over her fingers, trailing towards the floor. With each knot she released, she felt her chest loosen, and air filling her lungs. 

Evlyn had placed a basket to the left of Ivenna, and had begun to place a flower within each time she loosened a knot. She ran her fingers over the flowers’ petals. Though she could not see, the pleasant scent of violets filled her nose. She smiled to herself, and loosened another knot, letting the thread fall gently to the floor.

Ivenna did not spend all her time pulling against the endless strings of her heart. Some days, she went with Evlyn into the forest, to assist her in carrying various herbs and berries for her potions and magic. 

Evlyn spoke endlessly about the ingredients’ various properties and effects and their many uses, and Ivenna listened intently. She found that she genuinely enjoyed learning about the witch’s ways. Ivenna thought nothing of her task when Evlyn spoke of her craft with an intensity as bright as the sun.

It was not long before Ivenna was speaking of her own life--of her life within the village, of the love that had scorned her, of her sister, whom she missed dearly. “I shall return to her, once I have completed my task,” Ivenna said. “I am sure she is rife with worry for me. Or perhaps she presumes I am dead. I shall be sure to tell her that her presumption of witches is very incorrect.”

“Do not tell her of me,” Evlyn replied. “A heart cannot be changed by mere words. She will believe that I have placed an enchantment upon you. Return home, and be at peace with your heart.”

They returned to the cottage, and Ivenna returned to her task once more.

In nearly three year’s time, Ivenna had untangled nearly all of the knots that had strangled her heart for so long. She could breathe almost effortlessly now, air flowing into her lungs like water following a river’s current. 

There was only one knot that, no matter how much Ivenna pulled and picked and attempted to loosen, would not come apart.

The basket next to her was stuffed to the brim with violets. If just one more violet was placed within, the basket would surely burst.

“I cannot release this knot!” Ivenna cried in frustration. “No matter what I try, it holds fast. Tell me, what else is there to do? My time here is to end tomorrow.”

Evlyn placed a hand on Ivenna’s shoulder. “You will think of something, I am sure.”

Ivenna worked at the knot hour after hour. When she became particularly frustrated, she paced the small cottage. Evlyn would call a few words of encouragement, and Ivenna would sit down and try again.

When the sun began to dip below the horizon, Ivenna finally pushed her heart away from her. “I will return home now,” she declared. “If I cannot untangle this knot, then so be it.”

“Take the basket with you,” Evlyn said, her voice floating from the fireplace. “I shall come visit you at midnight, to return your heart to you. Not a moment after. After I am gone, place the flowers in a pot with plenty of soil and water, and place them on your windowsill.

With the basket of violets in hand, Ivenna returned home. Her sister ran to her when she heard that her lost sister had returned, and cried, “Oh, dear sister! I believed you were dead! And yet here you are!” Then her voice turned bitter with venom as she said, “That wretched witch--she has stripped you of your sight! She will be burned for this act of cruelty.”

“It is my price,” Ivenna argued. “The shadows themselves told me as much. The witch has done nothing to warrant such punishment.”

Ivenna’s sister struck her across the face. “Do not say such things,” she spat. “She is a witch, and look at what she has done to you. Who would ever seek out a life with a blind woman? You will grow old and die alone, loveless. Now come inside and eat.”

Ivenna followed her sister inside, but she had not the stomach to eat. Instead, she told her sister, “I am tired after spending so long with the witch. I am going to rest,” and retired to her room, where she waited anxiously for Evlyn’s arrival.

When all was quiet within the village, Ivenna heard a soft tapping on her window. She lifted it, and Evlyn caught her hand. 

“Here.” She pressed Ivenna’s heart, with its many loose strings, into her palm. “I have returned your heart to you.” Suddenly, Evlyn let go of Ivenna’s hand. The scent of smoke began to fill the air. “I must go now.”

“Witch!” Ivenna’s sister spat. “You will burn for your crimes!”

Ivenna’s chest seized with fear for Evlyn. She did not want to see her burn. The scent of smoke grew stronger as her sister approached. She was close enough that Ivenna felt the flames licking against the air. “Do not leave me here,” she pleaded. 

Evlyn squeezed Ivenna’s hand and placed a soft kiss upon her cheek. “I have returned your heart to you. You may keep mine.” One moment, Evlyn was in front of Ivenna, filling her nose with the scent of herbs and spices. The next, nothing more than the crisp air of the night brushed against her skin.

After Ivenna was sure that Evlyn had escaped with her life, and the scent of smoke drifted away until it disappeared altogether, Ivenna placed the violets within the basket into a big pot with plenty of soil and water, and left it on put it on her windowsill. She placed the threads of her heart next to the pot.

She slept fitfully that night, slipping in and out of consciousness until finally, dawn arrived, and she could bear sleep no longer. 

Ivenna watered the violets once more, and ran her fingers over their soft petals. She breathed in their scent, and thought of the witch whose voice was as brilliant as the sun, who had risked her life to return something precious to her. The witch whose company she’d come to cherish more than her sight.

Ivenna’s fingers drifted to her heart, to the threads that splayed across the windowsill, and closed her hand around the final knot. It did not matter if she ever released the knot. She had made up her mind. 

Evlyn had surrendered her heart to Ivenna, many months ago, day after day.

Ivenna seized the pot of flowers and held it carefully against her chest with one hand, and held the strings of her heart with the other. 

As she walked through the forest, the silver band concealing her sight fell away, transforming itself back into an intricate pocket watch. The knot she held within her hand unraveled itself, and when Ivenna held the threads up in wonder, she saw they were no longer crimson, but a beautiful gold.

When Ivenna arrived, the golden thread had woven itself within the violets so that they glowed from within.

She knocked on the door to the cottage. When Evlyn opened the door and saw Ivenna, her mouth parted slightly. When she spoke it was with both pride and astonishment. “You have released every knot in your heart.”

“I could not bear the thought of your absence in my life,” Ivenna said. She held the flower pot out to the witch. The chain of the pocket watch hand wrapped itself around the violets, compressing them so that they formed a heart. The watch itself rested within the center of the formation, it’s hands stopped at twelve. It would tick away no longer.

Evlyn’s eyes filled with tears and she fell into Ivenna’s arms. “I am glad that you have found peace with your heart.”

“My peace is with you,” Ivenna said. “I have never known a truer love.”

Ivenna kissed Evlyn, and they placed the violet heart on the mantle, where it could always be seen. They wed the next night.

Thus, their hearts became one, and they lived together happily for many years to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a like or comment if you enjoyed this story! I put a lot of love into it <3


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